Soulless Rebellion
by KuraiKitty
Summary: Keys go to doors, and are of no use if the door is no longer needed. But, with the devouring of worlds' souls threatening to act as the newest door to destruction, a missing key might be just what they need to stay alive.


(This fanfiction actually began as a role play idea, which I attempted to start on several forums. Depressed when each died from lack of activity (and perhaps my heightened standards…), I decided to take the plotline into my own hands and turn it into a fanfiction that ties together all the elements of the original role play of the same title. I hope you all enjoy this. )

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Once, there was a large metropolis in the middle of a desert- a large, sophisticated civilization that thrived off of technology, magic, and democracy. Once, it was great and beautiful, and was considered to be the epitome of technological integration with the citizens who lived within- no one lived on the streets, starved to death, or was left to fend for themselves. Not long ago, the city would continuously shine, with the bright silver luster of the town reflecting the sun and blinding all those who dared approach its majesty with evil intentions… and until very recently, no one feared death, for their prime scientists had only just discovered a gene that would extend the life of its citizens in return for a sorceress's might.

But that was then. Change often comes in a heartbeat, as proven when the time sage Ellone's power was first tapped, tearing open a strange rip in space as creatures unknown streamed through like ants over a carcass.

For the proud civilization was now strewn in flames never seen, by man, sorcerer, or beast in the land… and proud buildings that once stood for the luster of an advanced civilization felt the stress of invaders that no one had ever seen before. There was no diplomatic meetings, no political motives… nothing warned the people or its leaders that there was anything amiss until it was too late.

_I have to get out of here. Where are my friends? My dear friends… I hope they have not been killed already._

Sweat ran down the man's face, mingling grotesquely with the thin veil of blood that emerged from the multitude of small cuts on his face and burning his wounds as he blinked furiously to get the painful smoke and debris from his eyes. The stench of burning flesh reached his nostrils, and all around him, buildings and homes much like his own continued to fall in a myriad of titans, shaking the earth as the spreading blaze continued to spread like a plague through the foundations. Children's shrill screams and their mothers' resulting hoarse cries of desperation were never too soft to be drowned out by the cacophony of ruin, and they were never too far away to escape the sight of the orchid eyes that were trained upon them.

He had been a simple writer, making his living by writing articles and stories that were to be read by the masses… but the heat of his strongest critics could not scorch his body like the unnatural flames about him did. A pale purple hue, intermingled with tinges of white and orchid, the violet flames seemed to birth these strange assassins at an enormous rate- almost as if churning out another of the deadly creatures for each hapless soul that was consumed by the violet flames. His once white shirt clung to his skin, with his sweat cementing the cloth to his back and causing the wet fabric to chafe uncomfortably against his flesh.

His hands, blistered by a burn from the alien fire and with its skin peeled from the overexposure, screamed out every time he had to pull his middle-aged body over piles of concrete… the skeletons of homes, shops, and the livelihood of his town. He knew that, even if he survived, it would be a long time- if ever- before he could hold a pen, let alone the machine gun he once wore, in his hands again. Never before had he ever regretted throwing his weapon aside for the pen before now, and never before had he ever imagined resuming a life with his gun again. He thought that the time of death was over, only to find that now it was beginning anew.

There were creatures everywhere, all different shapes and sizes that decimated his home. The vast majority of them had eyes the same shade as the lavender fires that ravaged his city, with grotesque features and displaying a sick pleasure with each victim they swarmed over. He froze, not moving as a pack of the creatures before him fed off of a woman ten years his junior, batting her about like a cat toys with a mouse before, locking onto her chest, the woman shrieked as the color of her skin seemed to drain. The blue of her veins seemed to become more prominent as her skin hue began to look as stone, with the color changing from the outer extremities before draining inwards towards her heart. Finally, only the brilliant red of her heart remained, with her veins' color showing like deranged tattoos all over her body before her heart's now likewise enhanced color faded into that of a russet brown. Her screaming and flailing stopped, and the creatures turned to gaze at him, their orchid eyes gleaming with delight as a brilliant white wisp was slurped into its mouth… yet another soul, devoured by beasts unknown.

They looked like deranged wolves, with jaws that scraped against the ground and fur as white as snow. However, the horns that sprouted from just behind their shoulder blades clearly differentiated them from any wolf he knew, especially since they arched over their heads like an ox's horns, ready to spear those who attacked them from ahead. Their bodies were awkwardly balanced, since their front halves seemed much more developed than their hind legs, which were strangely stunted. Their front limbs, however, seemed far more adept at gripping their prey than normal quadrupeds. As they snarled, readying themselves to launch an attack on him, the writer froze, hearing a woman's heavily accented voice rise above the cacophony.

"Kursed Soulless! You will not have him!" She yelled, forcing the man to duck as a wave of fire swept over his head, pushing the creatures away from him for a moment. However, the stunned beasts soon returned, but with the silver-haired woman beside him, he felt a little more at ease. This woman could use magic, after all. Smiling with those thin, violet painted lips, she opened her mouth again and spoke.

"Griever, make them bleed!" A snarl tore through the air as a gargantuan, lionlike beast fell before the former soldier, flapping his enormous feathered wings and thrashing his deep violet tail. A marvelous lion, larger than any beast he'd seen the likes of, pushed him roughly aside and towards the woman who had summoned his aid. She looked truly frightening, with silver hair mounted in a headdress that looked like enormous horns sprouting from the sides of her head and eyes as golden as the sun. Deep violet veins ran across the sides of her face, and the blood-red material of her dress didn't leave much to the imagination around her nearly exposed bosom as she raised her hands towards the so-called 'Soulless'.

She and the beast worked with remarkable synchronization, with Griever's claws mangling her foes as she fired bolt after bolt of magic at the pale beasts. Several smaller, more lithe species approached, with tails whose ends had barbs that snapped like whips, but even they were disposed of with relative ease. The sheer numbers, however, kept her occupied enough to where she could no longer fix the writer in her cold gaze, allowing him to finally decide that it was time to move on for his own safety- collateral damage seemed to be a very real threat, with the summoned creature smashing everything moving under both tooth and claw. Though grateful for her aid, the man felt ill at ease, and quickly excused himself from her presence as the giant lion spirit crushed several of the white beasts between its jaws.

The beasts, he noticed, bled the same diamond wisps that had been obtained from the woman he saw, and was quicker to run for it. The lion reminded him of something, and it was an itch he longed to scratch as his memory failed him through the veil of adrenaline that fogged his coherent thinking. The brilliant crimson horn atop his head seemed out of place, but the shockingly white mane astride the beast's deep violet, muscular frame seemed oddly familiar to him. Despite this, he never linked its roar, strength, or wings to any other facets of his memory; rather, he only saw flashes of silver before his eyes, and the brief vision of a chain. Dismissing it as unnecessary, his heart froze with fear as he heard the woman's voice cry out to her beast, ordering him to find the man who'd run from them. His deep brown eyes fell as he pushed his sweat- soaked bangs from his eyes. His hair, tied back into a ponytail, seemed only to soak up heat as his one hope of liberation loomed before him.

A single ship, built awkwardly from remnants of the Lunatic Pandora, loomed before him, its engines fighting to gain adequate power as the hatch to close its entrance started to shudder and move. Running as quickly as he could and feeling his lungs scream for lack of oxygen, he yelled as best as he could towards it.

"Hold! Please, hold!" He called, his voice hoarse and vocal chords stinging from smoke inhalation. He saw the lone woman inside pause, his eyes flying open in fear, as he approached the lone ship that could sail through the stars. Her formerly gloriously blonde hair was matted with dirt, debris, and sweat, and her once marvelous sapphire eyes seemed to be dulled- forlorn and clearly beaten by her own trek to the ship that could save their lives, her eyes held none of the defiance, love, or even familiarity he was used to seeing in them. Nothing but a sense of hopelessness stayed within, and carried on her voice.

"They're gone, President. They've been taken by those _beasts_." Having not even the strength for tears, the woman's formerly cool demeanor had completely melted away, leaving nothing but this broken, empty woman where a strong one had once been. His heart dropped- he knew of whom she spoke. His two dearest friends were gone. Her own friends had left her some time ago, promising to return to their world with treasures from other lands… but they would never be able to return to her. Not as she was, and not if his fears were to be confirmed. Finding that he could not speak, she spoke once more for him, voicing his fears and dropping what felt like a pike of ice into his heart.

"I can't take you with me. You know that." As his face looked up at her, he was no longer a man who had fought to live- he was a horrorstruck shell, with his eyes wide in disbelief and his mouth open slightly as his jaw hung slack. She merely shook her head sadly, but slowly, as if every movement was laborious and painful for her. And perhaps that was what it was, but her eyes betrayed none of her pain or sorrow towards the man she had grown to love, despite the span of years that separated them. Though she had been attracted to the son, it was the father who captured her heart.

"Quistis…" That was all the shocked man could manage, with the single declaration carrying on it his pain, his sense of betrayal, and an inquiry that did not need to be said. And yet, following her gaze as she slowly pointed behind him, he immediately realized just why she had said what she had. The bodies of his two friends were literally vanishing, slowly fading from the plane of existence as if they had never been. With a cry, he ran to them, looking at the tendrils of darkness that had been lassoed around their chests. He felt not the beating of a heart when his hand rested over these cold wounds, but the seething darkness that had robbed them of their hearts and now their bodies.

He had buried his wife with his own hands, but was denied even that parting gift as the familiar faces he had held so close to him before dissolved into utter nothingness. His gaze stayed, trained on the spot where they had lain not moments before, before his gaze traveled back up to his former lover with a sense of forlorn hopelessness.

"Leave, Quistis. I do not need saving anymore." As he turned away, he felt a hand gently fall onto his shoulder before, with a shock, he was turned around, and a pair of lips met his in a hurried, desperate, and sorrowful kiss. He could taste the blood on her lips, and the sweet taste of a healing draft that still could not wash away the bitter taste of the crimson liquid. And yet, he allowed himself one last indulgence, pulling her close for what he knew was the last time and wrapping his arms around her, trying with desperation to memorize her every feature, her taste, scent, and touch… and, after a few seconds, he pulled free from her, his eyes betraying his sorrow as he gave her one last farewell.

"Farewell, my love." As she nodded slowly, her eyes clouding with tears, gave her one last gentle push into the craft, closing the hatch of the small vessel himself before, hearing the engines roar, he turned away, running aimlessly away from his departed lover. She was more to him than just a mere partner, he knew, and felt the familiar weight of the ring on his left hand to tell him that. And yet, he could not bear to see her leave- he would have no closure, for he needed none. With her gone, his dearest friends departed, and his city destroyed, there was literally nothing left for him to salvage, let alone live for.

A snarl rocked him from his thoughts, and he turned around almost casually, feeling emotionally and physically numb as he looked up into the eyes of the lion that he knew would mean his death. And yet, he felt no fear- just a sense of regret and acknowledgement. There was no fear of death, for he had already accepted it the moment he had let her go.

_So, the Soulless have not claimed you yet. Impressive. She feared that you had been lost to them_. The creature's voice rang in his mind, almost with a sense of amusement. Griever seemed to shake lightly with what he assumed was a chuckle, rattling his magnificent white mane and rustling the feathers of his grand wings as he knelt before the President of the broken land. The man, who stood casually despite his haggard appearance and pain, scarcely reached the gargantuan beast's knee, but nevertheless displayed no fear. Despite this, he was surprised when the beast's eyes held something that he hadn't expected- a sense of surprise, amusement, and pride.

"It appears so." The man answered simply, his voice devoid of strength as he looked up to the winged behemoth. "Though my city did not fare so well, I am still alive."

_You have more strength within you than first expected… especially for one at your high standing._He continued after a brief pause, recalling how the rich and so-called powerful usually reacted when facing death. The cowards would run, beg and plead for mercy as they offered money, power, and glory to their intended murderers if their lives were spared. Griever's tail lashed but once, and the great beast folded his wings so that they rested flat against his back. Training his gaze on the former gunman once more, the lion pondered for a moment before, placing his paw underneath the man's chin and gently lifting it, he looked into the man's eyes.

_What gives your soul its strength, ye whose kin wears my emblem?_

'_Ah, so that's it. That emblem… my son.' _And, with the realization of why he had remembered the magnificent Guardian Force striking him like a bullet, the man merely paused, remaining silent as he closed his eyes and smiled but once to himself. He remembered why he had chosen the emblem of Griever; for its strength, pride, and utter majesty.

_You would not speak? _Griever hissed, clearly growing impatient at the time elapsed. Raising a mighty paw, he unsheathed his claws, speaking to the man once again. _To try my patience is not wise._

"I have nothing to tell you, great Guardian, for my soul is not as strong as you believe it to be. Seek my son, if what you want is strength." Looking up, he managed a weak smile in the lion's direction, completely resigned to his inevitable fate. The winged creature sensed the weakening of his will and the remnants of his soul within, and saw the silent begging held within. The longing to be with those he loved, and to live with them among the stars for all time. Closing his eyes, the massive Guardian Force nodded but once, readying for the final strike against who was once one of the most powerful political figures in the land.

…_I see. Then I shall do as my queen hath bid me to do. Farewell, father of the Lion Heart._

As the paw slammed into his chest like a speeding train, the man cried out only once as pain wracked his body anew before falling silent, trying but failing to ignore the blazing pain that arose from his broken ribs as a mere twitch of Griever's claw loosed his heart… and the glimmering gemstone that was his heart was quickly snatched by the Sorceress as she looked up at her partner with a cold glare of utter distaste. Placing the especially bright heart into a small pouch as his torn but otherwise handsome body began to dissolve, she peered into her summon's eyes- a silent inquiry.

"You ruined another body, Griever. You must not be so klumsy in the future- he was a prime specimen. Why did you do it?"

_He reminded me too much of his own son. I could not see him fight his kin._ He shook his head, preparing to depart the now crumbling world as a scream tore open the sky. Ellone's shriek of sorrow and loss began to flood the land with utter darkness as a part of her was lost forever. Looking down at the body that was about to completely disappear, the Guardian Force paused, putting his paw over the man's face in an attempt to cover his eyes.

_Farewell, Laguna Loire._

And another star faded from its former brilliance in the sky.

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Far away, on another star that appeared to have dimmed long ago…

The land of ashes spread out before the one who stood before the world, beckoning him to enter into its deadly maw as death had bade the convicted witches in times past. The land screamed deprivation, with the barren, seemingly endless plateaus of the black glass snarling with every step he took. His eyes burned from the suffocating clouds of ash, and no amount of cloth could keep the rancid odor of death from invading his nostrils and coating his lungs with the burned corpses of times past. The darkened skies and the ruins about him formed a land that held no life within, save for him and one other that still called this barren wasteland her home. It was there that he sought out the only one who could answer his questions- the Witch.

His eyes caught the monolithic structure that loomed not far from his now old and archaic vessel, and had to squeeze shut as they loosed salty tears from the ashes that burned his eyes. Forced to open them every so often in the cold, perpetual night, time knew no bounds in this land of reminiscence and regret. Hours dragged on like days as the lone traveler hugged the once-white sash about his face, trying to keep the intrusive and very painful clouds at bay while ignoring the pain that his now ruined shoes failed to protect him from as the glasslike earth cut into the soles of his feet. Though crimson streaks of blood oozed forth from his wounds, which burned with every step he took even whilst the rest of his feet froze, no apparent stains were seen on the obsidian plains before him.

The castle was enormous, reaching into what must have once been a sea. With its basement submerged in what could only be described as a seething black ocean, the brunette male shuddered as he heard the tormented screams rise from its depths. As he approached, he marveled momentarily at the sheer majesty of the cryptically formed fortress of glass. The sharpened turrets, though worn down, still reached their jagged peaks to the heavens, and the drawbridge of marble was kept raised to close the mouth of the castle's gate, which looked like the maw of a giant beast. Sharpened 'fangs' acted as the gates before the drawbridge, completely preventing access from the outside. For all the majesty of the cryptic palace, there was but one window of frosted glass that peered out into the world from within the castle.

Approaching the strangely living moat, he heard a soul within scream as a portion of the liquid lashed at him from the depths. A skull that was once human seemed to lunge at him, snapping at him even though the liquid seemed to hold it captive- while shocking, the corpse looked as if it was contained by a piece of unbreakable film that made it visible, but contained within. The sight distressed him as the remnants shrieked, chilling him to the bone as the sounds of the gates opening echoed in the distance. Slowly, the pearl-like fangs lifted back, and the drawbridge suddenly fell forward, smashing the hostile soul beneath its weight and causing it to scream pathetically once again as the young man ran inside, glad to be rid of the disturbing sight even as doors shut behind him.

And yet, he did not feel afraid; he had heard of all the proceeds in the past. Now, however, they were no longer mere stories told to scare children, but a true affair that needed to be handled with the greatest of precision if he was to make it out alive.

"Come in; I've been expecting you." The woman's voice belied her true age- for though her body and voice attested to her former youth, the longevity of her mind and presence in this land often screamed otherwise, for she was far longer lived than any man would have ever guessed. She alone could live in a land that denied life, because she simply wasn't meant to exist; life was not a luxury, but something she was forced to accept in a land that denied her existence.

"Thank you, milady. I have come to--" As he swept into a humble bow, she immediately stopped his words with a finger to her lips… though one would have normally ceased speaking due to the sheer rudeness of ignoring such a gesture, the teenager felt his mouth seal together at the lips at the mere press of her fingers against her own. Smiling gently, the brunette woman stepped down, pushing a lock of her obsidian hair from her face as stray silver and brown ones peeked through with the gesture. Pausing before him, the woman's clicking heels immediately ceased as she gently lifted his chin upward, encouraging him to look at her. As their eyes met, his sapphire eyes locked onto her chestnut ones… though, oddly enough, it appeared as though her eyes had gold scattered through their depths.

"I know why you're here. And you must know much, to have found me here. It is ever so good to have company." Loosing his lips with a nonchalant wave of her hand, the witch let her hand move down his cheek for a moment before looking away, beckoning him to follow her as she spoke. Compelled not only by obligation but also by something he couldn't place, he did as she requested and followed her through the cold halls of the palace. Torches that lined the walls lit the walls as they passed, and he felt guilty for the steady dripping of blood that he left behind with every step.

However, he never noticed that every speckle of blood faded from the obsidian as he walked, nor did he particularly notice that the pain in his feet subsided over time; rather, he noted how this woman's hair drifted to her midback, and trailed three different colors within. Silver strands that looked almost unnatural lined the deepest layer of her hair, sprouting from the base of the skull and lying beneath the rest of her otherwise black mane. The lone brown highlight that touched her hair did nothing to detract from her beauty, and her scarlet jacket screamed extravagance. The white wings on the back were indeed beautiful, though it appeared that the outer feathers had stained to black, and the middle a drab gray.

He scarcely noticed when they had entered a small room, with the lone window of frosted glass staring out like a curious beast into the barren wasteland beyond. Carved simply, the glass was separated into sections, much like stained glass windows; only, with no way to distinguish the foreground from the background, there was no image to be seen but the fragmented soul of ambiguity in what could have been. Placing a hand upon the glass, the witch closed her eyes as a wave of nostalgia overcame her… then, and only then, did she feel compelled to speak again.

"This castle was here when I first arrived. I wasn't supposed to come here alone- _he_ was supposed to be with me. But, when I came to this planet, and the difference in time truly hit me… I realized that I'd lost him. Even if I returned, to where we promised, he'd be gone; there's nothing left to return to. The land fell to destruction but recently, and I could do nothing to save him. A part of me was responsible for his death." Passively, the brunette witch ran her index finger over one of the separators in the glass, lost in her thoughts, as the young teenager remained utterly silent. He knew all too well what it was like to lose the one they loved, and being able to do nothing about it.

"You, too, have come against the will of others to prove your worth." She continued, pausing. "You want to redeem yourself, when you have done nothing wrong. Why?"

"I have killed countless innocents… I've murdered far too many to get to where I stand." He hissed, resisting the urge to flay his bloodstained hands again. Tossing the sash he held onto the ground, he allowed himself to calm down as the woman's voice flooded back to him again. 

"It seemed right, at the time. You did what you were expected to do- no, what you were _ordered_ to do. To disobey warranted death." She replied coolly, not surprised when he turned around violently at her response.

"That makes it no better! It just proves that I'm a dispensable pawn. A person can change what they will be, an regret what they have done before, but life can't be given back again," he spat. Only then did he realize what damage he might have done to his chances of help, but he regretted none of his words. And, oddly enough, she responded with a single, content smile.

"That's what I wanted to hear from you, fair warrior." She nodded, closing her deep brown eyes for what seemed like the last time. Flashing them open again, said orbs flashed a frightening gold as she asked, "Now, I must ask of you as I ask of all- do you know where you truly are, and the implications behind it?" Her voice, drifting from proud to cold in a matter of seconds, chilled him to the bone as she leaned towards him, grabbing one of his warm hands with her bitter cold ones. Resisting the urge to shiver, he responded with as steely a voice he could muster.

"This is a land where dreams are granted, wishes fulfilled… granted that one can pay the price for them." He said dutifully, watching as she merely nodded to him in return.

"I am no Sea Witch, and thus draw no contracts. The price and service are binding enough, and cannot be revoked. _Do you understand?_"

"…Yes." The teen responded after a moment of hesitation. "I will pay whatever price you ask."

"Indeed you shall. The price for your utmost desire is the object you threw away once before, only to gain again; the voice that screamed loudly, even in silence. Your toll is to lose that which accompanied you for so long, but which tore apart another to gain it again… Will you pay your price?" Locking his eyes with hers, the once heralded hero beheld the woman's completely golden eyes, not even noticing the markings that appeared upon her cheeks or the violet that crept upon her eyelids as her hair flared like a malicious silver flame behind her. Taking her other hand and remembering how this particular witch sealed her deals, he smirked as he leaned forward to tell her his answer.

"Yes, I will." And, pressing his lips lightly against hers, he heard her sigh once contentedly as all signs of her damned future faded from her body; her hair fell back under the laws of gravity, returning to their normal dark strands as her eyes returned to their glorious auburn hue beneath uncolored lids. Moving their hands ever so subtly, the sorceress slid their clutched hands to his chest, letting a lone tear fall from her face as she guiltily imagined the face of her former lover on the one that kissed her now, as he did to her. Gently pushing his hands away as she deepened the kiss one last time, she placed her hands over his chest all but once before, with a flash, his price was paid in full.

A brilliant rose light rushed from him, and he felt a familiar part of him disappear again… and the emblem of the cursed ones branded on his chest. She now had what he lacked, and he had what she had once had.

"Regain your honor here, in this cursed land," she whispered into his lips, tracing the emblem once with her fingertip. "Aid the ones you slaughtered before; gain their trust, and redeem your past wrongs. You will be redeemed thusly."

"I shall. Thank you, Rinoa."

(So, what are your thoughts? Love it? Hate it? Please let me know. :3)


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